Friday, January 4, 2019

Hacked Hearts by Jade Webb

Title: Hacked Hearts
Author: Jade Webb
Genre: Romantic Comedy
Published: December 12, 2018 
“Hacked Hearts give you intrigue and such a sweet romance!” ~ The Red Hatter Book Blog
“... filled with action, suspense, humor, romance, and is an emotional roller coaster throughout.” ~ Wendy’s Book Blog
“... a smooth perfect balance between suspense and romance.” ~ Goodreads Review
Mia Rollins has a problem. 
A ten million dollar problem. 
There’s a bounty on her head and some really shady people are hoping for a big payout when they find her.
The only problem is she has no idea who wants her, or why. 
So she enlists the help of the one person in this world who can help her: Diego Medina, journalist wonderkin and notorious playboy. And when he chooses to ignore her pleas for help, Mia resorts to … a more creative Plan B. After all, desperate times call for desperate measures, right?
But the one thing Mia didn’t realize is that by hacking her way into Diego’s life, she also may have hacked her way into his heart.
“I didn’t seduce you. I was trying to get your attention, since you ignored my text!”
“And you thought showing me your tits would do it?” “Well, it worked, didn’t it?” she shoots back.
I’m silent for a moment, because she’s right. It did work. I don’t even have the mental bandwidth to try to dissect what that says about me as a person. Likely nothing good.
“What do you want from me?” I finally ask.
“Really? How can I simplify this even more?” she asks, her voice laced with obvious irritation. “Ten-million-dollar bounty on my head. I need you to figure out who the hell wants me and why. Your father was obsessed with this case. I know he kept detailed notes. Maybe there’s something in his notes that will lead us to figure out who the hell wants me so badly.”
Her mention of my father and his obsession strikes a nerve, and I feel my blood chill. I harden my voice. “Okay, hold on one second. First of all, there is no ‘us.’ And second, why not go to the police if you’re so concerned about this?”
She laughs, but it’s hollow, and there’s a hint of her voice trembling beneath her false bravado. “The police can’t do anything and will only force me back outside. I’m safer where I am, but I know I’m running out of time. Ten million dollars is a lot of money, and all I can do is try to run the clock out.”
Though I can tell she’s trying to fight it, the sadness and helplessness is clear in her words, and it hits me on a cellular level. She’s terrified. And while I want to blow her off, to tell her to leave me the hell alone, I can’t, though I’m not sure why. Because yes, she gave me one of the best orgasms of my life without even being in the same room, but there’s still something else. I feel drawn to helping her—maybe because of the fear in her voice, or my need to figure out what it is about her that seems to wake something inside me.
She lets out a long breath. “Look, I know you hate me. I know you probably blame me—or my father—for your dad becoming so obsessed with the case and eventually...” she trails off, not daring to say what we’ve all been too scared— too polite—to say out loud. “But I don’t have anyone else. I can’t leave my apartment. I can’t do this on my own. I need someone on the outside who knows the case and can help me. If I figure out who is ordering this, I might have a chance at surviving.”
I am a lover of romance novels that feature strong heroines who know that the loves that may come into their lives are always the icing, and never the cake.
I have loved romance novels since I was a teen, sneaking them into my Bible studies at my all-girls Catholic school. I love strong heroines who know that the men that may come into their lives are always the icing, and never the cake.
Thanks to my own marriage, I have learned that the challenges of life can only help to make love stronger and I am grateful to my partner for embodying all the magic that love can offer.

When I am not writing or dreaming up new love stories, I am working in a retirement community outside of Boston that provides me with enough writing material for ten lifetimes.
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